I came to the jungle expecting to teach English and assist in farming. I carried the expectation that I was bringing a remote village with the knowledge I carried. I left the jungle realizing I know little of value.
I witnessed miraculous healings. I farmed along side villagers. I lived life with a family of 18. I picked lice out of people’s hair. I ate unidentified vegetables and meats with my hands (yes, this did include monkey). I munched on fried bananas. I drank my body weight in tea and sugar filled coffee. I bathed in a river full of leaves and left it unscathed. I played guitar in front of an actual audience. So what if hey hated it?
In all the adventure I often had to stop and wonder, “how did I get he’s?” it stared with a need to do something more and at this stage of the journey that has culminated to be resting in the shade of a banana tree as the midday sun makes it to hot to work.
I cannot teach the indigenous people how to speak fluent English in two weeks time. I cannot invent a new method for their farming as my thumb is far from green. I have nothing of value to offer them save a smile on my face and the love of Jesus in my heart. Sometimes that is all it takes.
I went in expecting to impart knowledge and left a little wiser than when I entered he village on our little orange tractor.
